Realization lit in Daphne’s eyes. “You’re the girl from the video.”
That stupid video. Days later, it was still haunting me. Ezrahad made it his new hobby to screenshot and send me the growing number of views as well as his favorite comments. Which, of course, were all about how cool Macey was.
Macey smiled and held out a hand. “Regrettably. I’m Macey.”
“I’m Daphne. Noah’s sister.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister.” Macey glanced at me.
Daphne smirked, crossing her arms. “He doesn’t like to brag.”
Macey giggled. My eyes caught for a second on the swoop of her eyelashes. I pointedly looked away.Focus, Noah. “What are you doing here?”
She pressed her lips together, then rocked onto the tips of her toes like she was trying to shake off nerves. “I wanted to ask you if your offer for Aruba still stood.”
I blinked, my brain struggling to catch up. Of all the things I expected her to say, that wasn’t one of them. Daphne let out a low, suspicious hum, her gaze flickering between us.
“If so, I’d love to go with you,” said Macey, almost shyly.
My stomach twisted. Not unpleasantly, but almost with…nerves? That was unusual. I didn’t ever get nervous. I must have eaten something bad earlier.
This would be the longest stretch of time we’d ever spent together. What if we got into another argument, the kind that would make great TikTok fodder for some bystander recording on their phone? The last thing I needed was another viral clip of us bickering in public.
But we’d started to move past the bickering. We were professionals. We could handle being good-natured colleagues for the long weekend in Aruba.
I had a sneaking suspicion that any job—hell, even covering a paint-drying competition—would be more fun with Macey. Her presence crackled with the kind of energy that turned even the most routine moments into something worth remembering.
I cleared my throat, forcing myself to play it cool. “Of course. I’ll let them know. You can write a few articles, and I’ll come up with a few social campaigns.”
“Maybe we can collaborate on some posts,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “If you want.”
I barely had time to process the suggestion before Daphne cut in.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, way too casually.
I froze, my attention snapping down to my sister. What was she up to?
Macey hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Yeah, I could eat.”
Macey
Mariano’s overflowed with people, the line stretching out the door. What started off as a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint had transformed into a fan favorite. It had only opened a few months ago. How did it get so popular?
Memories of attending the opening and writing an article about their life-changing pizza came to mind.
Right.
Magazine writers like me made it popular.
As a travel writer, I preferred to, you guessed it, travel. But that wasn’t always possible. We were a Chicago-based magazine, so I covered a lot of events in the city: restaurant openings, store pop-ups, festivals, whatever. I didn’t mind it, though, especially when it involved sampling food. Writers weren’t exactly rolling in dough. However, we were great at making pizza puns.
Noah, Daphne, and I pushed through the crowd and lucked our way into a corner table. The long red-and-white checkered tablecloth hid my clammy palms, my body’s response to nerves.There was no reason to be nervous, I knew, but I was well out of my comfort zone.
Maybe I’d be less nervous if Noah weren’t acting weird. It was like a switch flipped in his head the moment we walked inside. He was still Noah but more…uppity. Like he and his fancy clothing labels were too cool to be here. Ironic considering it was him and his sister who decided on the location.
It was exactly the image he portrayed online: rebellious and cool. An image I had recently begun to realize wasn’t entirely real.
I wondered if he’d try to act this way in Aruba. I wasn’t sure how well I’d survive being around Mr. Cool every time we walked into a new room together.
